Too Bloody Lowborn
by medvezhka
Summary: The Peach scene from Gendry's perspective. A oneshot.


**A/N**: This is something I wrote a while ago so it might not be my best. And its probably been done before. But I wanted to publish it since season three is starting in a few days and we probably won't get to see this scene. I hope you enjoy it. Reviews are appreciated.

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing.

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Gendry rushed out of the Peach leaving the noise and women behind him. The air was cool and heavy with water and it felt good on his skin. The brothel had been far too stuffy and warm. Gendry had felt an extra burning in his cheeks more than once since arriving.

_Too much unwanted attention, _he thought feeling embarrassed all over again.

He kept walking away from the brothel to ensure no one followed him. Some of those girls could not take no for an answer. They kept on poking and prodding him despite his clear disinterest. _It's only their job_, a voice whispered in the back of Gendry's head.

He knew that but he still cared not for their advances.

He walked until the noise of men and women laying together and the strum of harp faded entirely. And then he kept walking through the Stoney Sept. Past the large fountain sitting in the middle of the square and the crow cages filled with dead men. The ones Arya had poured water over. Gendry tried to not look at them. Wolves, the man had called them.

Gendry stopped when confronted by a tall line of trees. He stared into the woods. It was in that direction that their ultimate destination lie.

Riverrun.

Gendry turned and kicked one of the trees with a booted foot. He liked the feeling. It was nice to let some of the tension out. Even if it was on an old oak.

He kicked at the defenseless plant a couple more times.

They were nearly there. He could feel it. Even though, until being sent up north Gendry had never left King's Landing, he didn't know the lay of the land like many men. Or even how to read a map. But he still knew it was only a matter of time before they arrived at Riverrun.

Arya's grandfather's castle.

_Arya_. She was dressing more like a highborn lady as of late. Not acting like one to be sure but looking more and more the part as they approached Riverrun. With the passing of each day they were getting closer to her family. And her old life. As a lady. _No a princess_, Gendry thought.

He leaned his forehead against the tree he had just beaten.

It was only a matter of time before she was reunited with them, the Starks of Winterfell. A fortnight if they made good time. Maybe another moon's turn at most.

And he was happy for her. Though Arya rarely spoke of it Gendry knew how badly she ached for her mother and brothers. She had even mentioned a sister once or twice in passing. He was all to aware of how badly she'd been hurt. Gendry heard her prayer every night. The names of those who had taken her father from her. The men who had hurt them both in that haunted castle.

But what would come of him once they brought her back? Once she had her family again? He had no business being around a princess. His place was in the forge not in a castle.

He heard Arya's voice in his head.

"_You can still make swords if you want. You can make them for my brother Robb when we get to Riverrun," _She had told him that day at Acorn Hall.

Gendry chewed on his lower lip as he thought back on that day. It had been the first time he'd seen Arya dressed like a proper little girl. In a green gown with acorns stitched all over it. She had been scrubbed clean and perfumed too. Arya had thought she looked stupid but Gendry hadn't. They had wound up wrestling in the dirt that same afternoon and tearing it. His face warmed again thinking about it.

He had gotten a smack on the head from Lem for that. He couldn't help but think her family would be displeased by that as well. Gendry hoped she would not mention it to Starks.

Gendry could not help but wonder what Arya's king brother would think of him. Gendry had helped Arya since they'd been thrown together on the road to the wall. They'd been through Lannister ambushes and the horrors of Harrenhall together. He assumed The King in the North would grateful to him for that at least. Arya talked fondly of her older brother. She thought him to be a good man. Gendry was not so sure. He saw what this war did to commoners like him. The Young Wolf's men had raped and murdered in this very town. Gendry couldn't help but think he would be just as bad as the rest.

The King in the North would no doubt be thankful that Gendry had some part in bringing his sister back to her family though. No matter what Gendry thought of this war.

But that changed nothing.

He could stay in the Armory and hammer away on swords while she was taken back to the castle and tamed. They would dress her in the finest gowns and teach her how to be a obedient wife to some noble lord or prince. Maybe even another king.

The thought filled Gendry with a toxic mixture of sadness and anger. And despair.

Gendry sighed. He knew he should go back to the brothel and find a girl. It made sense. Find a girl like himself to remind him where his place was. Gendry tried to recall what one of them had looked like or even a name. He could not. The only image his mind could conjure was one of Arya all washed up in a dress of lace.

The thought hit Gendry over the head like a hammer.

Arya was still in the Peach. He had left her in the brothel. Gendry had been so irritated with the girl trying to ring his bell and all the others that he had forgotten all about leaving Arya behind. Alone in a brothel of all places.

Gendry nearly ran back towards the Peach.

At first he didn't see her. She was mostly obscured form his vision by a hunched figure. There was an old man seated next to her on a bench. _Too close_, Gendry thought. He took several heavy steps towards them.

"I'm…" Arya was saying softly. To her credit she didn't looks scared. She never looked scared. But there was a look of uncertainty on her face. She had no way of knowing what the creep wanted from her.

Gendry placed a heavy hand on the man's shoulder.

"She's my sister," He lied. "Leave her be."

The man turned and for a moment it looked like he was going to start a fight. Until he saw he was no match. Gendry was nearly double the size of the shriveled old man. And where Gendry was all muscle this man was skin and bones.

"Your sister is she? What kind of brother are you? I'd never bring no sister of mine to the Peach, that I wouldn't," He muttered as he scampered away. Gendry watched him leave through narrow eyes. No doubt he'd go pray on some other girl now. Hopefully one who could see him for what he was.

"Why'd you say that?" Arya demanded standing up. Gendry looked back at her confused. "You're not my brother."

"That's right," he snapped without thinking. "I'm too bloody lowborn to be kin to m'lady high."

Arya frowned. She was surprised by his words.

"That's not the way I meant it," She said.

"Yes it is," Gendry insisted angrily. He sat down on the bench Arya and the old man had been occupying and picked up a cup that had been left unattended. Gendry was relived to see it half full. She was staring at him still. "Go away. I want to drink this cup of wine in peace. Then maybe I'll go find that black-haired girl and ring her bell for her."

"But…"

"I said _go away_. M'lady."

Arya spun around on her heels and practically ran up the stairs to their room. Gendry blew a deep breath out of his chest. _At least she is safe and hidden from all these lechers_, he thought dully. Gendry rubbed the back of his neck.

He had snapped at Arya and made her mad at him. Gendry didn't feel good about it.

But somehow it felt like balanced was restored.

She was a princess.

He was a lowborn bastard.

Gendry would never have a place in her life. Not as a friend. Not as anything.


End file.
